The red flag overhead hung still in the windless desert. Real LootEater and Capsized King locked eyes, oblivious to Drifter 135. "The Face", as they started calling him, preferred it that way. Let them underestimate him too.

As the arena master pulled out her railgun, the crowd fell silent. Nothing but the squeaks of juiceboxes from the ambulant vendors' push-cages. Capsize King grabbed an escaped juicebox running across the field and threw it into the grandstand. They cheered and chanted his name.

Then a sharp CRACK followed by the crimson flag gently floating down to the arena floor.

Let the combat begin.

The two skull masks slowly circled each other.

LootEater shot first. Capsized King returned the volley. The Face was already at LootEater's side (LootEater's gloamwight skull having ruined his peripheral vision) when The Face jammed the nozzle's business end between LootEater's finger and trigger. An iridescent black ooze streamed from the nozzle covering handle, trigger and trigger finger. The Face blew out a breath and then ran like hell.

From the looks of it, it didn't take long for LootEater to figure out 1) that his cream steamer was now stuck in the "on" position and 2) his hand was now stuck to the steamer itself. The already chaotic instrument of death spewed its "sticky fire" in all directions as he vainly attempted to rid himself of the abomination.

Of the many dumb decision he'd made over the past week, with a 50% chance of success, this was not the dumbest, but still it was going to sting. He flicked the nozzle's mix switch to reactant only, held it to the back of his neck and let it flow. He slathered the diaphanous gel into his neck, hair, and other parts of exposed skin. He set it back to mix mode and made for the Capsized King. There was no way to avoid the shower of hell globs bursting from LootEater's now unwieldy cream steamer but as they landed on the back of The Face's neck, his burning skin now registered the ice cold droplets. He quickly rubbed the area which dissipated the sensation into a tolerable cool. Endothermic Reaction. Good, it's neutralizing.

When LootEater's chemicals were spend and the fire rain stopped, The Face was already running full speed at Capsized King who himself was taking steady aim at LootEater. The Face lowered his shoulders, just like Abuelita had taught him (the same Abuelita that taught him by painful example that anything can be a weapon: a broom, a knitting needle, even a glue gun). He made his body into a rounded stone that bowled through the legs of his opponent. The King's cream steamer went flying as he hit the sand. Ha, a truly capsized king! The Face dove onto the King's legs. The left leg exactly on top of the right. Perfect! The Face scrambled to get his nozzle pointed at the King's heels and squirted a thumbsize dollop of weld between the boots. He blew on it. He knew that this atmosphere had no effect on the catalysis, but it helped him time the reaction.

WHOMP!!!

PAIN.

The Capsized King had delivered a mighty kick to The Face's hands. The two stared at each other and though The Face could not see it through the mask, he thought he felt the cold smile of Capsized King. The King raised his conjoined feet together and brought them crashing down onto the ground. His right boot cracked and he freed his bare foot. Crap! The Capsized King had NOT underestimated him. He had PREPARED for him!

The Face scrambled toward the cream steamer. Of course, he wouldn’t use that demonic weapon, but his broken hand would lack the precision for another trigger weld. He needed a new plan. And he needed it quickly as LootEater was now charging them from across the arena, weapon above his head. Was he going to use it as a bludgeon, for crying out loud?!?

The Capsized King walked calmly toward his own cream steamer. The Face did some mental calculations. Three breaths, probably. He set the nozzle to 4, just in case. He then painfully set the regulator to max flow and sprayed the top of the damnable weapon from where he lay the best he could. The Capsize King reached down and grabbed a handful of sand. When he got to his weapon he threw the sand on top. The grains fused into the metal. He looked at The Face and grabbed another handful. Oh, crap! And threw it again on the weapon, but this time the sand just rolled off it.

The Capsize King grabbed the weapon and fired a small glob into the sand. It still worked alright. He leveled it at LootEater who was now just 5 paces away. LootEater froze in place.

The battle was over.

The red flag overhead hung still in the windless desert. Real LootEater and Capsized King locked eyes, oblivious to Drifter 135. "The Face", as they started calling him, preferred it that way. Let them underestimate him too.

As the arena master pulled out her railgun, the crowd fell silent. Nothing but the squeaks of juiceboxes from the ambulant vendors' push-cages. Capsize King grabbed an escaped juicebox running across the field and threw it into the grandstand. They cheered and chanted his name.

Then a sharp CRACK followed by the crimson flag gently floating down to the arena floor.

Let the combat begin.

The two skull masks slowly circled each other.

LootEater shot first. Capsized King returned the volley. The Face was already at LootEater's side (LootEater's gloamwight skull having ruined his peripheral vision) when The Face jammed the nozzle's business end between LootEater's finger and trigger. An iridescent black ooze streamed from the nozzle covering handle, trigger and trigger finger. The Face blew out a breath and then ran like hell.

From the looks of it, it didn't take long for LootEater to figure out 1) that his cream steamer was now stuck in the "on" position and 2) his hand was now stuck to the steamer itself. The already chaotic instrument of death spewed its "sticky fire" in all directions as he vainly attempted to rid himself of the abomination.

Of the many dumb decision he'd made over the past week, with a 50% chance of success, this was not the dumbest, but still it was going to sting. He flicked the nozzle's mix switch to reactant only, held it to the back of his neck and let it flow. He slathered the diaphanous gel into his neck, hair, and other parts of exposed skin. He set it back to mix mode and made for the Capsized King. There was no way to avoid the shower of hell globs bursting from LootEater's now unwieldy cream steamer but as they landed on the back of The Face's neck, his burning skin now registered the ice cold droplets. He quickly rubbed the area which dissipated the sensation into a tolerable cool. Endothermic Reaction. Good, it's neutralizing.

When LootEater's chemicals were spend and the fire rain stopped, The Face was already running full speed at Capsized King who himself was taking steady aim at LootEater. The Face lowered his shoulders, just like Abuelita had taught him (the same Abuelita that taught him by painful example that anything can be a weapon: a broom, a knitting needle, even a glue gun). He made his body into a rounded stone that bowled through the legs of his opponent. The King's cream steamer went flying as he hit the sand. Ha, a truly capsized king! The Face dove onto the King's legs. The left leg exactly on top of the right. Perfect! The Face scrambled to get his nozzle pointed at the King's heels and squirted a thumbsize dollop of weld between the boots. He blew on it. He knew that this atmosphere had no effect on the catalysis, but it helped him time the reaction.

WHOMP!!!

PAIN.

The Capsized King had delivered a mighty kick to The Face's hands. The two stared at each other and though The Face could not see it through the mask, he thought he felt the cold smile of Capsized King. The King raised his conjoined feet together and brought them crashing down onto the ground. His right boot cracked and he freed his bare foot. Crap! The Capsized King had NOT underestimated him. He had PREPARED for him!

The Face scrambled toward the cream steamer. Of course, he wouldn’t use that demonic weapon, but his broken hand would lack the precision for another trigger weld. He needed a new plan. And he needed it quickly as LootEater was now charging them from across the arena, weapon above his head. Was he going to use it as a bludgeon, for crying out loud?!?

The Capsized King walked calmly toward his own cream steamer. The Face did some mental calculations. Three breaths, probably. He set the nozzle to 4, just in case. He then painfully set the regulator to max flow and sprayed the top of the damnable weapon from where he lay the best he could. The Capsize King reached down and grabbed a handful of sand. When he got to his weapon he threw the sand on top. The grains fused into the metal. He looked at The Face and grabbed another handful. Oh, crap! And threw it again on the weapon, but this time the sand just rolled off it.

The Capsize King grabbed the weapon and fired a small glob into the sand. It still worked alright. He leveled it at LootEater who was now just 5 paces away. LootEater froze in place.

The battle was over.